I can't sleep because I have far, far too many thoughts. Musings on the recent past, the present, and the uncertainties of the future are darting throughout my head at blazing speed

It is only a month gone, but I already feel myself overcome with nostalgia at Fall semester. I was always in such a state of flux - many chances taken, many new people met, many great/unique experiences. The lifestyle began to eat at me, however. The way of living with no end in sight clashed with my ever-present pulse inside me to have something real, to wake up each morning and have a pull towards a certain person. Classes/jobs/clubs are all great, but the trump to all of those is relating to people on personal/romantic levels. I need love, yet i'm not outside the boundaries of acting crazy. Last fall I felt alive, with each passing week a new uncertainty would meet me head on and I'd collide with it with a wide grin on my face. To paraphrase Weird Al, the world was my burrito.

Towards the end I had been worn down, and actually looked forward to a break. The break only sucked me into a life I no longer want a part of, for it has been stripped down to its skeletal remains. The house in which I have lived the longest in is going up for sale, due to its tenants being ripped apart. Those events have me feeling very pessimistic myself about my own hope for the future, if that kind of luck is genetic. The house is perfect, memories burned into each square inch of it. None of it was real. My parents put on the perfect lie for 20 years, or at least the past 10, when my dad "sold out."He sold out for us though, for the benefit of the family. I've never had much to complain about monetarily, even though I've worked minimum wage jobs constantly since 10th grade, so I suppose I have that to be thankful for. But then you have to re-evaluate the word "benefit." Did our family benefit by totally having love absent in our household? Did my sister benefit as a person by relying on my dad as an ATM to this day? Did my mom benefit by sacrificing the best years of her life to a man who can not see the loving, caring heart she has, or rather if he does see it, chooses to ignore it, just as he has all other human contact in his life? Did I benefit by being raised into this false reality by two parents who, though always clear on their support, are two entirely different people who probably never should have married?

This brings into thought the discussion of my own existence. If anything made any sense, I who I am now shouldn't exist. This is concerning because recently I have never felt more comfortable in my own skin, I feel older, I feel capable of complex thought, I wish to find my place. Now that everything I have grown up with is being fed to the furnaces, it seems that this is the true test of faith and the true test of character. With nothing, you can only grow. With nothing, you must self-analyze and discover the power within you to succeed.

I've always enjoyed being alone - it's a strange feeling, but I'm elated when it happens. Whenever i have the house to myself, whenever i'm in a building real late at night, whenever i'm driving a long distance by myself, whenever i'm walking around listening to my own thoughts. Perhaps this is part of the fear and anxiety I'm experiencing at the moment - when you've listened to yourself for so long, will anyone else want to listen to you? Will anything else make much of an impact?

I need to smoke something this weekend